


who does not speak, who does not bark

by CampionSayn



Series: February Prompts 2020 [3]
Category: Legion of Super Heroes (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood and Injury, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, This is late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampionSayn/pseuds/CampionSayn
Summary: February Prompt, Day 3: Bribe | Bite
Relationships: Brin Londo/Tinya Wazzo
Series: February Prompts 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621750
Kudos: 8





	who does not speak, who does not bark

How beautiful and terrifying she was, dressed in rage.  
  
Brin didn’t remember the fall. He didn’t remember the basics of the fight. He didn’t remember the moment that experiment left teeth marks in his skin that would, doubtless, leave scars he’d recall on as time moved on.   
  
But he did remember the enemy standing over him, his monologuing basically a drone as his blood was ringing in his ears and Brin had to snap his teeth on his tongue to ground him and keep him aware and awake enough to edge away; instinct telling him to get away-get away-get away.   
  
He remembered something cold encompassing him, something wet rolling down his middle from the hip.   
  
And then black and white, and screaming, descending on the other before Brin.   
  
There would never be a way to remove that image from his mind.   
  
Tinya, with a scalpel clutched in her hand, raining down blow by blow on the enemy; quick, concise, yelling something in her home tongue that the Legion translator in her ring couldn’t keep up with.   
  
It made his feral brain imprint and remember, even as the iron tang of blood misted the air and he was on the ground, blacking out.

* * *

  
“...Brin? Brin, you’re going to get a little shock here; I’ve got to give you a shot, but I need your permission first. Standby.”   
  
Jerking, electricity running through his nerves, brought Brin back to the land of the wakeful and, rather fortuitously, Brin found a rubbish bin pressed into his face.   
  
Bile, white hot and disgusting, spewed from his mouth as his guts clenched liked he’d been stomped, thrashed and beaten in his sleep.   
  
There were even little red streaks in the refuse leaving his throat.   
  
“Yeah, sorry about that,” a hand pulled back his hair, pink in his peripheral as he heaved and heaved again, spitting a rushing of spit when he felt he was done.   
  
After taking a deep, painful breath, he coughed and set the bin to the side, leaning forward and bringing his knees up to his chest to ease up some of the discomfort still lining his ribs.   
  
“Easy, easy,” Imra said, removing the bin and emptying it into the biohazard removal unit near the center of the room so he could breathe without inhaling the scent of his own sick.   
  
He was grateful to her, even as he found himself with Brainy beside him, looking stone faced and holding up an injection pen that replaced the smell of vomit with something a step and a jump to the left of cinnamon that had been dabbed in tabasco, “This is the curative that was in the lab we raided where that scientist was keeping his test subjects. I ran it through the lab and by all rights it should work without interfering with your other faculties, but I need your permission.”   
  
Brin blinked groggily at the smaller young man, “Since when do you ask permission before giving us our medicine?”   
  
Querl tapped the side of the pen and winced a little when he replied, “Since Phantom Girl is in the brig and made it very clear that you weren’t to have anything put into you while you were unconscious.”   
  
“...The brig? What the hell is Tinya doing in the brig?”   
  
“Let him give you the shot first, Brin,” Imra admonished, coming back at the sound of the heart monitor Brin was on raising and beeping more, “Then we’ll explain.”   
  
Brin had never been faster in offering his arm for a needle.   
  
“Thank you,” Brainy said, taking the appendage and being quick about the tiny pinch and injecting what turned out to burn, just the littlest bit, once it was in Brin’s bloodstream.   
  
“Well?”   
  
Querl sighed and motioned for Saturn Girl to answer while he disposed of the pen and set about removing the white shreds of what Brin assumed were makeshift bandages around his waist.   
  
“Tinya’s fine,” Imra began, helping Brin over to the side of the bed so Brainy could cut off a knot in the binding without hurting him, “She’s in the brig because Cosmic Boy insisted after we walked into that lab to find you both in a rather disconcerting state. You were unconscious and Tinya kept lashing out at anyone that tried to get near you, so Rokk had Brainy dampen her powers and then escorted her down below so we could treat you.”   
  
“Protecting a teammate is no reason to put another in the ship’s prison cells, Imra!”   
  
She flinched a little at his volume and the growl that was vibrating through his voice.   
  
“I know, I agree with you, but...well, Tinya was very worried for you Brin. She’d cut off her cape to bind your injury and when you started having a seizure and choking on your own vomit, her first reaction was to protect you from everyone,” she paused, pulling up the pile of shredded cloak, now more obvious for what it was as he could see the emblem of a skull on bits and pieces of it; she helped Brainy wad it up and bag it for incineration, “I suppose it’s something the both of you have in common, but Bgztlians are a lot harder to manage in a rage than most life forms, including you. Rokk just wanted everyone to be safe.”   
  
“And now?”   
  
“Now we can inform Rokk, who can inform Tinya and let her out, if you want,” Brainy spoke up, washing his hands in the nearest sink and pressing a nearby intercom button with his elbow to do just that.  
  


* * *

  
Clicking, fast approaching sounds of footsteps were at the door to the medical bay not three minutes after Brainy had made the call, one set heavier than the other, and one set he’d gotten to know through years.   
  
It was completely unsurprising to find Phantom Girl had launched herself through the matter of the door before Cosmic Boy even put in the code.   
  
It was, on the other hand, a complete surprise when he saw her in just her black leotard/bodysuit, with flecks and smears of dried blood on her exposed hands, some of her neck and face.   
  
She was no less beautiful, but he couldn’t help but tense up, just the slightest, when she didn’t utter a word and was immediately upon him.   
  
Tiny fingers brushed gently over the cleaner application of bandages Querl and Imra placed on him, then checked the point of entry for the shot Brin had received from Brainy.   
  
Then she brushed the sweaty bangs out of his face that had been sticking to his skin, eyes tracing every bit of him she could observe in the bright light of the medbay; her hands finally settling to a standstill on his shoulders, giving him just the barest of squeezes.   
  
“...Hey,” he greeted, eye contact with her remaining focused and clear as his own, much larger hands, found hers; taking them from his shoulders and cupping them between the both of them.   
  
She didn’t say anything, but all of her body was telegraphing how worried she’d been, how exhausted she was, and how many terrible thoughts had been running through her head while they’d been separated.   
  
They knew each other. He knew she was reading him without speaking and was calming down, but she still needed reassurance.   
  
He nodded to Brainy and Imra to leave the room, take Rokk with them, and shut off the lights.   
  
Which they did, even with Rokk saying something about an incident report and Imra scolding him, “Later, Rokk, you owe Phantom Girl this much for putting her in a cell.”   
  
Brin grinned a little, in full agreement, though without breaking eye contact with Tinya.   
  
Once the lights were gone along with their friends and the doors were closed, Brin scooted back along the bed, raising the covers invitingly to motion Tinya inside, “Come on.”   
  
She obliged, not even using her powers to slink in the warmth, her body pressed close to his.   
  
Their legs tangled and Brin brought his arms around her back, fingers through her hair as she braced her forehead up against his throat, her breathing prickling his fur and picking up in speed.   
  
He felt the tears even before she pressed her face harder against him and snatched at one of his hands, pulling it out of her hair to squeeze it.   
  
He squeezed back and nuzzled the top of her head.   
  
“I...I was so scared. You stopped breathing, Brin. I w-was so s-scared.”   
  
“Shh, shh, I’m right here,” he whispered back at the same low, barely-there level she had set the pace with, “You protected me. You were there. Pretty sure you saved me, too.”   
  
“I didn’t,” she whimpered, shaking as she held back a full body sob, “I wasn’t _here_ . I was lashing out and so angry and I was so _stupid_ for losing my temper and you were in here and-and-and I didn’t know what was happening--”   
  
“Honey,” Brin interrupted, derailing that train before it fully left the station, “You were there when it counted and I am still here. We’re both here. Right now.”   
  
She swallowed, breathing in and out right against his pulse point, letting him wrap himself tighter around her, bringing the blanket to cocoon them like something from a fairy story.   
  
“Right, you’re here. You’re here.”   
  
“We’re here.”   
  
“We’re here,” she repeated; all the comfort in the universe in those words.   
  
He smiled, tired but content, repeating the mantra with her, even as both their voices petered out for the awaiting sleep the both of them deserved in times they shared like this. So often.


End file.
